


One Last Revival

by GalekhXigisi



Series: A Wolf and a Bird adopt a Spider (and other mcu stories like that) [4]
Category: Captain America (Movies), Marvel, Marvel Cinematic Universe, Spider-Man (Tom Holland Movies), The Avengers (Marvel Movies)
Genre: Breeding, Generation Z Peter Parker, Hydra Peter Parker, Kidnapping, M/M, Medical Trauma, Post-Traumatic Stress Disorder - PTSD, Prodigies, Trans Bucky Barnes, Trans Peter Parker, ya i'm implying a lot here
Language: English
Status: In-Progress
Published: 2020-03-30
Updated: 2020-03-30
Packaged: 2021-03-01 04:42:39
Rating: Not Rated
Warnings: Rape/Non-Con, Underage
Chapters: 1
Words: 4,432
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/23399407
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/GalekhXigisi/pseuds/GalekhXigisi
Summary: When Sharon proposes another mission to raid a Hydra base, they didn't expect it to end in them adopting a young spiderling under their wings.
Relationships: James "Bucky" Barnes & Peter Parker, James "Bucky" Barnes & Sam Wilson, James "Bucky" Barnes & Sharon Carter, James "Bucky" Barnes/Sam Wilson, Peter Parker & Sam Wilson, Sharon Carter & Peter Parker, Sharon Carter & Sam Wilson
Series: A Wolf and a Bird adopt a Spider (and other mcu stories like that) [4]
Series URL: https://archiveofourown.org/series/1660729
Comments: 1
Kudos: 74





	One Last Revival

**Author's Note:**

> To clarify, the doctors that I bring in are NOT ocs, they're characters from another show with Emily VanCamp (Sharon Carter's actress) plays a nurse, it's called The Residence. Conrad is Nic's (her character's) fiance and Doctor Cain is the shady surgeon only just now showing any humanity. I really like the show. 
> 
> There are a lot of triggers in this, including the means to surgery for "breeding" purposes, so please be incredibly careful. This will have a lot of triggers that will continue like this throughout the fic, so please back away now if that triggers you all. 
> 
> Peter is 16 in this, so, yes, there is a hefty amount of differences in timeline stuff in this, but up until about the end of Far From Home, it's pretty canon-compliant. This is set about a year and a half after Endgame.

Raids were typically easy, in Bucky’s opinion. They’ve raided a hefty amount of old Hydra bases, even some active ones filled to the brim with people. He’s a sharpshooter, one that can work both in up close quarters and far away, which means that whatever terrain he gets thrown into, he can fight in. With weapons, without, he’s a force to be reckoned with the same way Sam is. Sam isn’t as kind on the battlefield as Steve was. He doesn’t give anyone time to talk, doesn’t let them even believe they have the upper hand for a split second, does whatever the Hell is needed to get his point across. If that means shooting a couple of people on his way over, well, Sam’s got it covered. 

It took them a rather long while to get to where they are now. Considering that a few years ago, the two were shooting at each other with Hydra pulling the string and now they live together and fight back to back near-daily, well, it’s an adjustment that they adore, even if they don’t have to say it for the other to know it. 

Sharon’s knuckles wrap against the apartment’s door, something Bucky had been expected. She had given them a heads up text (though more centered at Sam, given that Bucky could take days to reply) that she would be coming over with another raid case. He doesn’t falter with opening the door, nor letting her in. Bucky’s already got some tea set out, although he knows she’ll only drink two-thirds of it before leaving. She never really sticks around long and he doesn’t exactly blame her, even if they are friends. 

Sam sits at the table himself, not minding as the two join him, or as the blonde presses a folder to the table. She seems far more uptight than that is typical, shoulders tense, discomfort clear. Bucky damn near asks what’s wrong, but she’s already telling them, “I’ll be honest with you, I have no idea what this raid is about or who it’s for, but I’m awfully sure it’s one of the many hideouts for those of Hydra that still associate with the government.” 

“You mean the government that still associates with Hydra,” Sam asks, brow raised as he tips his cup, ice tear just barely avoiding falling out of the glass, a finger pointed at the blonde. 

Sharon nods, lips pursing. “Yeah,” she confirms in a huffing breath that sounds just as uncomfortable as she looks. “I normally wouldn’t give you tip-off to cases like this, but-” 

“What’d you mean,  _ like this,” _ Bucky now asks instead of his partner, who seems to have the same question in mind if his quizzical look is anything to go by. “You give us missions like this all the time.” 

She shakes her head. She clarifies, “Ones with  _ children.” _

At this, both lean up, interest piqued at that. Sam is the one who pries, “What child and is it something like Bucky?” 

“I don’t know,” she tells them, “It was just whispers of a tip-off and I’m not even sure if it’s an actual thing, to be honest with you.” She opens the file, which is rather thin. Bucky’s brow raises. It really wasn’t any more than a whisper. “I’m sure you’re both aware of Spider-Man?” 

“Spider-Kid,” Sam nods easily, “took out my wings and pinned us, even had the idea that took down Ant-Man. Kid’s pretty smart.” 

Once again, the blondes’ lips purse as she hums and nods. “Well, after his identity was revealed,” she pulls out a picture of a soft-faced teen, the name  _ Peter Parker _ written beneath it, “his aunt was killed and he went into hiding.” 

_ “Shit,” _ Bucky grunts under his breath. 

“Or, so we  _ thought.” _

“Always that tidbit,” Sam mutters unhappily, brows furrowing, “What happened to the kid, then?” 

She runs her hands through her hair and turns one of the few pages to show off the small accounts of what she has, just dates and locations. “Fury, Hill, and I suspect that he was kidnapped, but we aren’t too sure. He went off the grid, which wouldn’t be hard, he had Stark technology on him.” 

_ “Shit,” _ Bucky whispers, “I forgot the kid was close with Tony.” He leans forward to peer at the soft-faced teenager once more. “He’s, what, thirteen?” 

“He’d be sixteen,” Sharon tells, “but he is thirteen in that, yes. And he and Stark were very close from what I understand, especially given that he helped on many of Stark’s personal projects, was is personal intern, and even stayed at the compound pretty often. He was close to the whole team, even Natasha.” 

It was then Sam’s turn to curse a soft,  _ “Shit.” _ He wipes his hands over his face before asking, “Does he have anyone left? At all?” 

The woman shakes her head at that. “Which is why the possibility of him going into hiding is impossible, especially with the fact that he left all forms of his suits and EDITH at the compound before he disappeared.” 

“EDITH?”

“One of Tony’s A.I.s, his personal one that he and Peter programmed together.” She seems to melt somewhat, no longer tense but instead somber. “He was either giving up being Spider-Man and going into hiding or…” 

“Or planning his suicide,” Bucky somberly finishes for the blonde, who seemed far more stressed over this than any other typical mission. “Either way, no one’s seen him since.” 

“Until three nights ago.” Sharon perks up, pulling out a blurry picture of someone in a solid black suit, one skin tight and made for stealth, shimmering in the photograph. “Augustine Sanders was found dead two hours later. I’m not saying it’s a Winter Soldier sort of murder, but that is entirely what I’m saying.” 

Bucky tenses at that, his frown clear on his features. “It takes years to make a Winter Soldier, doesn’t it?” 

She shakes her head, telling him an easy, “Not when you already have the means to it.” 

“What’d you mean?” Sam frowns. “That kid couldn’t ever kill anyone! He started talking to me mid-fight to ask about what metal my wings were made from!” 

“That isn’t what I mean.” She’s quick to clarify, “What I mean is that Peter Parker is more than just a regular teenager, even before the spider powers that he has. He’s always been top in his class, skipped a grade when he was a child, was the child of a Hydra scientist and a SHIELD one, both of which were respected and geniuses of their own merits. He’s always been top of his class, is a protege, took college classes while being mentored under  _ Tony Stark _ all because he  _ thought it would be fun.” _ She frowns, taking a deep breath, the inhale slow and exhale even slower. “He knew seven different languages already. Spanish, Italian, Russian, and a few others, but that’s what I can remember off the top of my head.” 

Sam leans back in his chair, arms crossing over his chest before his left comes out to make a few hand gestures. “Okay, so he’s a little genius and then he’s got all this spider power crap to him, too.” 

She nods, handing him a paper. “He has web spinners on his wrist but he made his own web fluid. It isn’t as strong as his own webbing, but it isn’t permanent like his own, either, so it’s safer for anyone he’s fighting with. He can stick to anything at all and has four extra spider legs that come out of his back.” 

Sam cringes at hearing that, which Bucky mirrors with a soft little noise leaving him. 

“He’s got super strength and heightened healing, but with that, he requires a lot more food, too, since his metabolism is fast, too.” Sharon pauses, almost as if she’s thinking out what else there is to him. 

“You seem awfully familiar with this kid,” Sam recounts softly, though his tone isn’t as accusing as it certainly could have been. 

The blonde nods instantly. “His father used to bring him to work sometimes,” she said, which makes Bucky flinch softly, “and sometimes it would overlap with the days that I was there with Aunt Peggy. He was a lot younger than I was and a lot different then, but he liked picking up whatever I was doing. I haven’t seen him in a while outside of it being in passing. The last time we talked was at his parents’ funeral.” 

Bucky takes a swig of his tea. It isn’t as comforting as he hopes it is, which is rather unfortunate, the reminder of Mary and Richard Parker’s faces fresh in his mind, their terrified child in the back of the car even fresher. He still wonders if Peter recognized him. He still wonders why the kid let him go when they had their collective fight at the airport. 

The rest of their debriefing is quick since there isn’t all that much information to go through. They get locations, get times, get dates, get whatever it is that they need. Sharon is thorough and has them set out by the next morning. 

  
  
  
  


Sam’s heart races as he narrowly avoids a bullet straight to the forehead, shield bouncing it away easily as Bucky slams a body down on the ground just behind him. There’s a painful huff, one that easily means whoever was just slammed will be out of it for a hot minute or two. There are only a few left to take out, plus an assortment of doctors in thick lab coats that ran down the hall a few moments ago. 

“Thought this was just supposed to be like any other mission,” Bucky more asks than anything as he slams his metal fist into a woman’s jaw, effectively knocking her out cold. 

Sam snorts. “Usually, the bases we raid are pretty dead.” He inhales deeply, aiming the best he can and watching the shield, which slams one guy into another, taking them both out quickly. “This one is  _ pretty active, _ you know.” 

“So I’ve noticed,” the older of the two snarks back, glaring half-heartedly at his partner, though there isn’t any genuine malice behind it. With a final shot, Bucky says, “Alright, so, follow the scientists, take ‘em out, raid what’s left.” 

“Of course,” he confirms without hesitation, leading the way with Bucky following closely behind, gun at the ready, metal arm shifting warily. 

Within the time that they’ve fought, they’ve come to expect a lot of things within taking abandoned and still in use Hydra bases out. Within all of those, though, they haven’t come to expect the now open weeping that sounds heavily through their ears. It’s weak, forced down into watery whimpers that sit painfully on their shoulders, maybe even muffled by a hand. The voice that follows it is just as weak, too, high-pitched and absolutely terrified as they cry out, “I don’t want to hurt anyone anymore,  _ please!” _

“You have no say, Spiderling,” someone retaliates without remorse. 

Bucky gives Sam a gentle shove to the back, which the other man merely flips a hand at him, waving him off as he stalks forward, a gun drawn and shield at the ready. 

What sounds like a hard smack follows behind, then a gunshot and a loud scream. The cries only grow as whoever was sobbing yelps, “Why’d you do that?” 

A third voice tells, “Can’t leave with you, can’t leave you alive.” Another gunshot and cry make Sam move quicker, almost to the end of the hall where the only door is open, light flooding out as well as a splatter of blood. “You’ll die with the rest of us like the Hydra soldier you are.” 

Sam rounds the door without a second of hesitation, just barely avoiding slipping on the heavy trail of blood there. There are four scientists, one with a gun pointed to the back of a kid’s head, the kid turned away from them and hands over their ears as cries come out in strained breaths, forced down by pain. A blanket is held over most of their body though their back is exposed, a gunshot wound to their upper left side and lower right, two places that could be both deadly. Bruises cover the skin, painting it blue, purple, and a nasty yellow. Within seeing the spider-like limbs, both know they’ve got exactly who they’re looking for.

The scientists all move to react, but the two are faster, guns taking out the scientists. Before they can even take in the situation at hand, they’re pinned to the ground with thick webbing, guns kicked away and a shield pressed to Sam’s throat. The Spiderling seems to have wrapped the sheet around them within an instant, the cloth hiding their body as blood soaks through their front, breathing shaky and painful. Red stains his touch.

“Tell me something only you two would know.”

_ “What,” _ Sam bites, glaring at the other, “The Hell do you mean?” 

Anger seems to rise in the brown-eyed boy, shield pressing harshly to his throat as he yells, “Tell me something only you two would know!” 

“You never shut up during a fight,” Bucky says. 

Sam nods cautiously as the boy’s eyes flit to Bucky, then back to Sam expectantly. The man volunteers, “You geeked out about my wings and Bucky’s arm when we fought.” 

He doesn’t seem to falter, expression growing more intense. Peter’s glare won’t let up. Tears dribble down his cheeks, falling onto the shield.

“You let us go,” Bucky concludes, “and told us not to tell Tony.” 

At that, he pulls away, expression turning pitiful as he falls slack, sobs finally overtaking him as he moves to pull at the webbing, spindly limbs pulling the strands away. He whimpers out, “I’m sorry, I’m so sorry,” on repeat as he does so. The only things that make his words falter are the choking sobs and few times he has to clutch at any of the wounds, pointedly avoiding the two bullets that laid on the ground a few feet away. The room is stained with his blood. 

“I didn’t want to hurt anyone, didn’t want to do any of it-” 

“Kid, you gotta breath,” Sam finds himself saying as the other hyperventilates. When he coughs, blood stains his hands. “Bucky, call Sharon, tell her to get some paramedics on the way, Fury’s private team or-” 

_ “No,” _ Peter damn near  _ screams, _ which makes both flinch. The boy shakes his head harshly. “I can’t-” 

Bucky shakes his head now, insisting, “We’re calling in a medical team, kid. Super healing or no, those bullets went through you and you’ve got enough bruises to paint you purple. Fury’s got the best team and even if you aren’t close with him or you’re mad about something, Sharon isn’t going to tell anyone about it.” 

Sam nods along, watching as the youngest crumbles with a nod. It doesn’t matter what they do, the kid is out of the game for the moment and it’s clear he doesn’t have much fight left in him. He practically passes out in Bucky’s arms when the man picks him up, ignoring the new metal leg that seems to accompany Peter. Sam would be lying if he said he didn’t do a double-take at it. 

  
  
  


Sharon’s thumb lays near her mouth, the tip of her nail pressed to her two front teeth, not yet biting. She’s tired, something that’s pretty clear from the makeup beneath her eyes, not caked and only noticeable to trained eyes or someone especially looking for it. She had been busy when Bucky called, about to sleep after a twenty-hour shift at a hospital. Her nurse persona may have been what Steve thought was a cover, but the woman did genuinely work as a nurse at a hospital. 

With working as a nurse and pulling a very hefty amount of strings, she had managed to get Peter on the operating table within the span of thirty minutes, which she now monitored, her eyes scanning over the open viewing window. She pulls her thumb away and frowns as one of the many nurses stands to the side, sparing glances at the multitude of scars that sit over the boy’s body. 

She, unfortunately, had been there when the two vigilantes brought Peter in. She had practically carried the boy herself, blood staining her jacket that now sat in the garbage, though that was mostly because she couldn’t stomach the fact that there was so much blood on it, to begin with. Her stomach still sits in knots. It couldn’t at all help Sharon’s peace of mind at seeing the thick sutures on his chest and a butchering of scars, ones that are thick and unmistakable in their purpose. Top surgery wasn’t all that hard, not really, but what she sees there makes her stomach roll every single time she glances at it, eyes burning. Eventually, Sharon has to turn away and walk, heels softly clicking as she moves. 

She finds Sam and Bucky not too far. It’s sort of surprising, she thinks, that they even stayed. Staying meant the possibility that they could be caught. While this hospital  _ did _ have it’s own hefty amount of secrets to it that centered around old SHIELD agents and whatever else, she still isn’t sure she can guarantee that the two of them being there can or will be kept secret. There are a lot of people out for their heads. 

Nonetheless, the woman still sits at the table with them, hands folding in her lap and a soft mutter of thanks leaving her as Bucky passes her a cup of coffee. She’s sure they can both tell that she’s tired, whether it be from the slouch or whatever else, who knows? They’re both trained to know and it wasn’t as if she wasn’t letting her guard down in the face of the two men. 

“How is he,” Sam asks softly, peering at her through sunglasses. 

After Sharon gets a drink of the bitter hospital coffee, she lets out a heavy sigh, frowning as her arms neatly fold beneath her, elbows holding her up. She shakes her head. “He’s still in critical as of right now. I asked Banner to send over something to help with his super healing, but, for now, he’s just doing good to have a heartbeat.” Her eyes glance up at Bucky, faltering for a moment. It takes a second, but she does voice, “He has… He has what I could only assume are scars for top surgery, but Doctor Cain said that the ducts are still there.” 

Bucky blanches at hearing that. Sharon adverts her gaze immediately, ducking her head. Blonde curls fall in her face as soon as she does so. She doesn’t have to look to know Sam is cautiously gazing at the other, reading his body language the same way Sharon was doing just moments ago before she even got to the table. They’re all three tense, concerned as can be. 

“You don’t think they…” 

Sharon purses her lips, nodding slowly. She silently begs that the tears burning her eyes don’t fall. Hydra was cruel, she knew, but breading a  _ child? _ She feels nauseated at the thought, sniffling and clamping her teeth to keep that feeling at bay. “I don’t know,” she finally breaths out, heavy and painful to admit. She can’t be sure. From what she’d found in a quick scan through of the layout, nothing about Peter had been documented outside of him being called the Winter Spider, trained quickly on how to fight against his own will. 

There’s a moment of silence, a pregnant pause that they all falter on, unsure of how to heal it. It isn’t something they can just gloss over, they’ll have to rehash it later and talk it out once they get the chance.

Sam’s frown is apparent in his voice as he asks, “What’d we do with the kid after?” 

“Take him to Wakanda,” Bucky suggests, which finally makes the blonde turn towards him, frowning. He looks sincere, though. “Have Shuri do what she did with me to at least get the mind control out of his head.” 

“So you  _ do _ think he was under mind control,” Sam asks, though it almost sounds…  _ irritated? _ Sharon isn’t exactly sure. 

Either way, Bucky gives and annoyed sigh, glaring at his counterpart. He rolls his eyes as he begrudgingly admits, “Of course I do, Sam.” He makes a gesture at the younger man. “You heard him, too. He cried at the prospect of hurting anyone and we’ve  _ seen _ what he does with villains. He didn’t kill Quinten Beck, certainly not on purpose, and he definitely didn’t kill Adrian Toomes.” 

At that, Sam heaves out yet another sigh, shaking his head with the breath. “I know,” he mutters, “He wouldn’t kill if he had the chance not to.” 

Sharon finally pieces in, “You two are talking about the same kid that used to sob every time he accidentally stepped on an ant. I don’t think Peter could kill,  _ ever.” _ She doesn’t, which is why she had lead the investigation on the “murder” of Quinten Beck, which lead her to dissect the footage and then getting sent the real thing from Pepper Potts just after Spider-Man disappeared. 

Bucky summarizes, “So, there’s absolutely no way the kid could have killed while in his right mind.” 

Sharon nods with another sniffle. 

The three sit in silence for a long while, drinking the shitty hospital coffee, trying to ignore all the implications that sit between them. It isn’t until hours later when Doctor Cain and one of his consultants, Conrad, come out, 

Tentatively in a very  _ not Doctor Cain way, _ the man tells them, “He’s stable, but… There is a multitude of other injuries that will, most likely, require operating on. We had to remove two other bullets that, quite honestly, could have been there for months, maybe even a year. He’s had other severe injuries in the past, but nothing that hasn’t healed itself by now.” 

Sharon frowns as she asks, “They didn’t heal properly, did they?” 

Conrad shakes his head, giving a sympathetic smile as he softly says, “No, but they’re close enough to it that it shouldn’t be a giant issue.” 

Bucky gives a vague gesture at his chest and asks, “What about…  _ that?” _

At that, all traces of a smile on Doctor Cain drops. Sharon’s stomach plummets and she’s entirely certain the other two men are going through the same thing. “There have been signs of… A pregnancy and certainly scars to attest to a C-section, but, as of current, we aren’t sure what’s going on with all of that. Chest-wise, he still has milk ducts, but breast tissue and fat have been removed very half-hazardously. To be honest with you three, both as a colleague to Sharon and friend, I’m pretty sure we’ll have to go back in to fix whatever it is that’s been changed. From the x-rays we took, it’s very clear that they’ve done far more damage to take on extreme means for procreation than anything near considered  _ good.” _

Sharon fans her face as she nods, sniffling again as she asks, “How long until you think he’ll wake up?” 

“Maybe two,” Conrad tells, “He was already stirring when we got him out of operation. We’ve given him psychotics to combat post-traumatic stress. He’ll be having a fit when he comes up, but you’ll all be able to see him after.” 

Sharon nods slowly. “Are there signs of any other surgeries done on him? Anything at all?” 

Doctor Cain’s frown only deepens as he nods. “There are a lot, outside of the suspected C-section. He’s got scars where his uterus is on both sides, neither of which look promising. Outside of the metal leg and the certainties that came with connecting it, though, we can’t be sure what’s surgery scars or past injuries.” 

The blonde has to force down a sob as she nods, eventually watching the two walk away. This time, when they sit in silence, they’re waiting for Peter to wake up, well aware of what’s going on now. It doesn’t help any of them at all. 

  
  
  


When Peter finally wakes up, the three sit in the room, Sam and Bucky on his left, Sharon on his right. Peter’s slow, an odd change from his typical ADHD-induced fast pace. The blonde can’t say she likes it too much as Peter peers at her through thick, tear-stained eyelashes. It all hurts even more as the young boy asks, “Are you real, or is this another surgery-induced fever dream?” 

“I’m real,” she mutters softly, smiling as she grapples at his hand. 

He tentatively wraps his fingers around her palm. Big, brown eyes stare back at her for a moment before he softly asks, “Can you prove it?” 

“When we were kids, Aunt Peggy let us shoot a crossbow for fun. You got a bullseye the first shot. You were so happy that you accidentally slapped yourself in the face with the crossbow because you were stimming.” She smiles softly. “You cut open your cheek and we both got a mouthful for it, but Aunt Peggy would still let us shoot because she liked how happy you’d get when you hit any of the target at all.” 

Peter smiles, wid and dopey. Half-lidded eyes focus on her, relaxing significantly as he holds onto her hand. He softly tells her, “I missed you,” though he falls silent afterward, focusing on breathing.

Sharon’s own smiles widens as she replies, “Missed you, too, Peter.” Her thumb runs over his knuckles, a comforting little action she does without a thought. 

“What happened,” the boy mutters softly, suddenly frowning, “I - I was with the scientists and someone was coming…” His hands pull away, coming up to tangle in his hair.

The blonde pulls his hands away slowly. “Sam and Bucky saved you,” she tells, giving a gentle gesture to the two men on the other side of the room, his hand still in hers. His eyes scan over the two, who give gentle waves. 

“Am I under arrest?” He deadpans. 

A soft laugh leaves the older woman as she shakes her head, smiling at her friend. “No, no, Misses Stark cleared that all up already. You’re not really on the run for murder anymore.” 

“But I’m on the run from the Sokovia Accords, right?” 

She purses her lips, nodding slowly. “To be technical, we all sort of are, Peter.” 

**Author's Note:**

> Tell me if there are any tags I should add!
> 
> If you liked the fic, here's my Discord server!  
> https://discord.gg/eGkwayy


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